


Past and Present

by Eris_historia



Category: Whyborne and Griffin - Jordan L. Hawk
Genre: Angst, Christmas, F/M, Found Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 07:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8881048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eris_historia/pseuds/Eris_historia
Summary: Two Christmases from their past, and one from their present





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aliencupcake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliencupcake/gifts).



> I hope that you enjoy this!

_Griffin_

 

Griffin sat on his cot in his cell of the asylum in Chicago, listening to the wind howl outside. It rattled the windows of his cell as it whipped the snow around in the early evening dark. He didn't know how long he had been there for after seeing the horror that had happened to his partner in that basement. He had lost track of the days, the never-ending cycle of the abuses suffered at the hands of the guards, the constant companion of the nightmares that haunted his memories every time he closed his eyes. He thumped his head back against the wall and sighed loudly.

 

Griffin started as he heard another inmate down the hall begin to scream and the sounds of the guards rushing to silence him. He could hear the sounds of the guards' voices, as well as the other unpleasant sounds of flesh being hit with various objects, but could not make out the words themselves. Eventually, the other inmate quieted down, and, while not complete silence, a quiet settled on the asylum floor.

 

As the guards walked back and got closer to his cell, he could make out their conversation between each other.

 

“Damned lunatics,” he heard one say in a low growl. “Can't keep 'em quiet for an hour.” Griffin knew this guard quite well. He was always one of the guards who enjoyed taking certain... _liberties_ with the inmates, and Griffin had felt his particular brand of sadism many times in the past. 

 

“Well, _that_ one'll keep quiet at least. I think that you got him hard enough to keep him out for the rest of the night,” another replied.

 

The first one said, “I hope so. I swear, every time Christmas comes 'round, the bastards decide they need to act more insane. It's like they know we're short staffed! This'd better be the last ruckus I hear from them tonight.”

 

_Christmas?_ Griffin thought. Could it really be Christmas already? He had no way to mark the passage of time, the guards certainly weren't inclined to give the inmates any information about the outside world. There was also nothing special that had been done to mark the occasion by the asylum's staff. The day simply passed as any other. There certainly was nothing like what he had done once his ma and pa had adopted him in Kansas. There was no church service, no carols sung, and certainly no warm family dinners where everyone gathered and exchanged small gifts.

 

The thought of what his ma and pa were doing today brought a lump into his throat. While he had left Fallow in shame, surely his parents wouldn't leave him here if they knew of what was happening. They were better people than that. They wouldn't leave him here to rot with the abuses of the guards his only contact with anyone other than the demons that lived in his head.

 

Perhaps he really was insane. Maybe nothing otherworldly had happened in that basement to his partner. He found himself doubting his sanity a little further each day. What he saw in his nightmares was not something that could happen in any rational world. Maybe his parents had heard his rantings and decided that it was better to leave him in this place, where he couldn't hurt them or anyone else.

 

Griffin leaned his head back against wall of his cell as he dress his knees up to rest on his cot and sighed once more. He needed to get out of the asylum. One way or another. He  _wasn't_ insane, he knew what he had seen in that basement, the things that still haunted his nightmares, and knew that they were real and not imagined. He was  _not_ insane. He clung to that thought as he allowed himself to slip into a fitful sleep.

 

_Whyborne_

 

Whyborne stood at the side of the ballroom in which the Ladysmith's Christmas gala was being held. He was uncomfortably aware of the press of bodies in the room, that were all clamoring to look at the displays that the various departments across the museum had put on for the _Christmas Throughout History_ exhibit that was meant to draw out the wealthy and prestigious members of Widdershins society. There was no reason for him to be here, even though the director insisted on every member of the staff (other than the support staff) being present, in order to talk to the party-goers and try to obtain more donations and patronages for the museum. It wasn't as though he was any good at talking to people, and his family connections meant nothing to the society people at the ball. As the disgraced younger son of Niles Whyborne, he did not have people lining up to speak with him, even though his father was one of the most influential men in the city, and an in with his family meant an in into the highest echelons of Widdershins.

 

However, he was here to escort Christine, in order for her to attend the party and be  _proper_ , much to both of their chagrins. He knew it was important for her to obtain funding for her trips to Egypt to continue the excavations on the tombs of the pharaohs. He would suffer, well, maybe not silently, but with a minimal amount of complaining for her sake. He knew how much it meant for her to continue her digging, to make what she had overcome to become a PhD worthwhile and continue to show that she was as capable as anyone else in the world at what she had chosen to do with her life.

 

Although, it was better to be here at the gala than it was to be at his parents'. He was relieved that he would not have to sit through another year of his father's disapproval feeling as thick as fog in the dining room, while Stanford baited him at every moment. The one disappointment this year would be not seeing his mother on Christmas, even though he would make certain to visit her in the week between Christmas and the New Year.

 

He spotted Christine making her way towards him with a glass of champagne in each hand.

 

“How are you holding up, old chap?” Christine asked as she handed him one of the glasses.

 

“When are we able to leave this?” Whyborne asked, in lieu of answering the question that she posed to him.

 

“As soon as the director is in his cups enough to not notice that we've gone,” Christine replied to him.

 

“Well, that should be relatively soon, then,” he said.

 

“Quite. So, what are your plans for the rest of the night once we're done then?”

 

“The same as every night, I suppose,” Whyborne said. “I'll do some translations back at the house, and then sleep.”

 

“Well, that sounds remarkably boring, Whyborne,” Christine replied.

 

“Tomorrow, I'll settle in with one of my books, probably _Beowulf_ , as it's a tradition that my mother and I used to read it every year, and one of the few memories of the holidays as a child that I actually remember fondly,” he responded.

 

“Why _Beowulf_ , of all things? That's not very in the spirit of the holiday,” Christine said.

 

“Why isn't it? It fits in with the theme of Christmas and is something that all of the old families do on the day, tell stories of the monsters that have been vanquished”

 

“Widdershins society is certainly... _something_ ,” Christine said. “Exactly _how_ does that fit in with Christmas? Wait! Don't answer that, I really don't want to know,” she said as he opened his mouth to defend Widdershins' Christmas traditions. “I'm sure that it makes perfect sense to someone who's grown up here.”

 

“Well, what are you planning on doing that is so much more in keeping with the 'Spirit of Christmas'?” Whyborne asked Christine.

 

She sighed before responding, “My landlady at the boarding house is planning on having Christmas dinner and then we are to sit and play parlour games. Forced socialization, with most of them wondering when I will give up my archaeology and settle down.”

 

“That does not sound that bad, all things considered,” he said.

 

“It's not, other than the fact that most of the other boarders are at least 5 years my junior,” Christine said. “And at least I will be leaving again for Egypt shortly, so I can fortunately beg off and retire early while saying I need to make arrangements for the trip.”

 

Later that evening, as Whyborne returned to his small apartment after the gala, he ruminated on what Christine had said, that his evening seemed to be boring. However, it wasn't as though he had anyone in his life that would make it less so. Perhaps he should get a cat? Or small dog? Or perhaps not. He was fine with his life, truly. He did not need to have a large supply of companions always at the ready, nor did he have to spend every waking moment occupied with thrill-seeking pastimes. His life was fulfilling enough, he had his work that kept him engaged enough, and truly, that was all he needed.

 

He sighed, and began to remove his tuxedo. He would not let Christine's words bother him one whit further. Once he finished undressing, he grabbed his copy of _Beowulf_ , and, almost defiantly, sat in one of his chairs and began reading it. He was fine. Truly.

 

_Together_

 

Whyborne and Griffin sat in the sitting room in their house, surrounded by people. Christine and Iskander were sat together on the sofa, talking with Persephone and Heliabel. Persephone and Heliabel had managed to come to their house under the cover of night in a cab, Whyborne having met them on the beach.

 

Persephone seemed to be delighted with the Christmas tree that Griffin had procured for their sitting room, and with the various baubles on it and kept getting up to examine the tree from different angles. Heliabel smiled indulgently every time she saw Griffin and Whyborne touching one another, which was often.

 

“So nice to see you boys happy and safe,” Heliabel said, as she caught sight of Griffin's hand resting on Whyborne's knee where it had moved from the back of the lounger that they currently sat on. She smiled and continued, “Especially after that awful business in Fallow.”

 

At the mention of Fallow, a brief dark shadow crossed Griffin's expression, as he recalled his mother, but it was gone in a moment.

 

“Yes, I find myself thankful every day that Ival is is still here with me,” Griffin said as he rubbed Whyborne's knee, reassuringly.

 

“Why isn't Miss Parkhurst here,” Persephone interjected into the conversation, bluntly. “I thought that you said that tonight was for friends, and she is a friend, so why is she not here?”

 

“W-We're not really that close,” Whyborne said, slightly confused. “Besides, she's my secretary, it wouldn't be proper.”

 

“Proper. Bah! She is  _my_ friend, at least,” Persephone said as Saul snaked his way around her ankles.

 

“And mine,” Christine said with a twinkle in her eye and a shared smirk with Griffin. “Really, Whyborne! I can't believe that you did not invite Miss Parkhurst! Imagine how she must feel!”

 

“I'm- I'm sorry? I'll make certain that she is invited in the future when my half-ketoi sister and mother are around,” Whyborne replied. He was uncertain as to what was happening, and why Persephone was so interested in Miss Parkhurst, and why Christine was enabling them.

 

“Good,” Persephone said, sounding as if the matter was settled. She leaned down and picked Saul up and began rubbing behind his ears, eliciting purrs from the feline as he closed his eyes on her lap.

 

“When are you leaving again for Egypt, Christine?” Whyborne asked, trying to turn away the conversation from himself.

 

“Two weeks,” Christine said. “And I expect you all to not get involved in anything that is remotely interesting while I'm gone!”

 

“I'm sure that they will be bored and completely safe while we are digging,” Iskander responded while looking as though he didn't believe one word of what he was saying.

 

“Yes, I'll make sure that he only goes to and from the museum, with no contact with anyone, save the people in this room. If I have to, I'll handcuff him to the bed,” Griffin said. Whyborne choked and began sputtering as Christine burst out laughing. Iskander looked as though he were trying to hide his laughter behind his hand, even as his eyebrows shot up. Heliabel simply smiled, although faintly blushing as much as a ketoi could, while Persephone looked as though she approved of Griffin's idea wholeheartedly.

 

At that, Griffin got up and grabbed a bottle of brandy from the spirits cabinet on the side of the room and began filling tumblers of the liquid. He passed out a glass to each person in the room and said, “A toast! To friends, both here and not, and to family, both found and natural.” 

 

As everyone clinked their glasses and drank, Whyborne couldn't imagine having a happier holiday as he reflected on how much his life had changed in just a few short years. Now, if the damned elves that he kept seeing around town would just leave, everything would be perfect.

 


End file.
